Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, NED BRADDOCK [JULY 9, 1755], by JOHN WILLIAMSON PALMER


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

NED BRADDOCK [JULY 9, 1755], by                    
First Line: Said the sword to the ax
Last Line: "steeple and state!"" said the ax to the sword."
Subject(s): Braddock, Edward (1695-1755); French And Indian Wars; Generals


SAID the Sword to the Ax, 'twixt the whacks and the hacks,
"Who's your bold Berserker, cleaving of tracks?
Hewing a highway through greenwood and glen,
Foot-free for cattle and heart-free for men?"
-- "Braddock of Fontenoy, stubborn and grim,
Carving a cross on the wilderness rim;
In his own doom building large for the Lord,
Steeple and State!" said the Ax to the Sword.

Said the Blade to the Ax, "And shall none say him Nay?
Never a broadsword to bar him the way?
Never a bush where a Huron may hide,
Or the shot of a Shawnee spit red on his side?"
-- Down the long trail from the Fort to the ford,
Naked and streaked, plunge a moccasin'd horde:
Huron and Wyandot, hot for the bout;
Shawnee and Ottawa, barring him out!

Red'ning the ridge, 'twist a gorge and a gorge,
Bold to the sky, loom the ranks of St. George;
Braddock of Fontenoy, belted and horsed,
For a foe to be struck and a pass to be forced.
-- 'Twixt the pit and the crest, 'twixt the rocks and the grass,
Where the bush hides the foe, and the foe holds the pass,
Beaujeu and Pontiac, striving amain;
Huron and Wyandot, jeering the slain!

Beaujeu, bon camarade! Beaujeu the Gay:
Beaujeu and Death cast their blades in the fray.
Never a rifle that spared when they spoke,
Never a scalp-knife that balked in its stroke.
Till the red hillocks marked where the standards had danced,
And the Grenadiers gasped where their sabres had glanced.
-- But Braddock raged fierce in that storm by the ford,
And railed at his "curs" with the flat of his sword!

Said the Sword to the Ax, "Where's your Berserker now?
Lo! his bones mark a path for a countryman's cow.
And Beaujeu the Gay? Give him place, right or wrong,
In your tale of a camp, or your stave of a song."
-- "But Braddock of Fontenoy, stubborn and grim,
Who but he carved a cross on the wilderness rim?
In his own doom building large for the Lord,
Steeple and State!" said the Ax to the Sword.





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